“I’m realistic,” Ryker growled, poking August right back in the chest. “As your alpha, it’s my job to be.”
August kept washing his body, dragging the washcloth down his legs as he glared up at Ryker.
“You just missed out on some of the best sex I’ve ever had,” he said, lifting back up and washing his cock. It flopped from side to side with wet slaps. “And if you’d been there, instead of staying here feeling all superior, you could have been there and warned me that doing the guy a favor wasn’t a good idea. So this is your fault, really.”
“My fault?” Ryker growled. “Because I didn’t skip two meetings just in case your catfish turned out to be real?”
“Fine. Whatever. I shouldn’t have removed his mole.” August took a deep breath. “But I’m telling you he’s not up to anything. Can you trust me and relax?”
Ryker crossed his arms. “He deleted his account and your entire message history the day he was supposed to meet you. You don’t think that’s suspicious?”
August threw the washcloth at Ryker’s chest. “No! I think he was less experienced than he let on, and he got spooked, but then he decided to come after all. He’s not some kind of sexual conman.”
Ryker ignored the washcloth and let it drop to the floor. He kicked it away with his foot, his expression softening.
“You don’t know that.”
August had had enough. He pushed Ryker out of the shower – the chances of a hot and heavy mutual rub down were now pretty much nil – and grabbed the shampoo off the shelf.
“August, I’m sorry. If he’s up to no good, then I’ll deal with him, okay?”
That was not what August wanted to hear. Ryker’s method of dealing with people was heavy handed and usually ended in tears. He put the shampoo down.
“Don’t do anything,” he said, expression stern. He and Ryker tended to be pretty equal in their relationship, but at the end of the day, Ryker was his pack alpha. Outright ordering him around didn’t come naturally to August. “Not unless he does something first. Please?”
Ryker nodded. “Fine. I’ll let things play out.” He stepped back into the shower and grabbed the shampoo. “Can we stop fighting now? I want to wash your hair.”
August looked at him for a second, but then he let himself be mollified and nodded.
He was still a little upset, but getting his hair washed would go a long way in making him feel better.
“I’m looking forward to our date on Wednesday,” Ryker said, lathering shampoo into August’s hair.
August let out a snort.
“No, really. Even if he is up to no good, I hope he doesn’t show his hand until after I’ve gotten to fuck him.”
As he’d intended, the words made August laugh.
“You’re terrible.”
3
DYLAN
Dylan spent the weekend in his apartment, alternating between watching his favorite anime and working on his thesis.
He was sore – and not just where he’d expected – but with some painkillers and some carefully arranged cushions, the discomfort was manageable. By Monday morning, when he had to get up early for class, he was walking normally.
“What the fuck is that?”
Dylan hadn’t even sat down before his friend Annie was pushing away the collar of his jacket and looking at the massive hickey that Dr. Schaffer had sucked into his skin.
It looked much worse than it felt. The bruise was blue and splotchy yellow, and the indents where Dr. Schaffer had bitten him were clearly visible.
“I met a guy.”
Dylan blushed, not accustomed to talking about his sex life. Or rather, not accustomed to having a sex life to talk about.
